


Parallel Lines

by chvnxiaojie



Series: Atypical Romance [7]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, im not good at tagging so lets just leave it here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 07:58:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20404330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chvnxiaojie/pseuds/chvnxiaojie
Summary: Parallel lines were never meant to cross. Somehow, by a strange twist of fate, they did.





	Parallel Lines

**Author's Note:**

> A story about someone saving an injured stray cat – or more accurately, Choi Seungcheol, benevolent police detective, saves Kwon Soonyoung, infamous mafia childe.

Rain had been falling incessantly, giving the city an eerie and murky feeling all day. Dusk has fallen hours ago. He scanned his surroundings, an instinctive habit he had developed since childhood. (_Growing up in the slums would do that to you, _he ruefully mused.) Cars were scarce. People even more so. Seungcheol bunched up the collar of his jacket, desperately trying to warm himself up and avoid getting more drenched, and exasperatingly huffed, “Of all days to forget my umbrella.” He hastened his pace as the rain continued to pelt heavily.

It had been a long day for the young detective. They had been chasing a thief – underwear thief funnily enough (_damn those perverts, they run incredibly fast_, he internally grumbled) – and it was only now that he had finished all the necessary paperwork. Since he was the rookie in their team, just a mere police fledgling fresh out of the academy, he had eagerly volunteered for the overtime. He should have learnt his lesson from their previous cases. No one wanted to deal with the technicalities of paperwork – even Seungcheol himself – but for the sake of the case to be properly filed and reported, Seungcheol had willingly done so.

When Seungcheol finally filed the last one of those horrid sheets, he breathed a sigh of relief. He fled from the police station like it was on fire. As eager as he was to be exceptional, Seungcheol wasn’t privy on staying the night at the station. There would come a time when he’d be sleeping on his desk once a difficult case would be assigned to them, he knew that. But right now, since they were rather idle, he’d rather indulge in the luxury of his warm apartment. (_He likes sleeping in his own comfortable bed thank you very much.) _So Seungcheol dutifully went home.

His apartment was near the police station, walking to and fro still took him roughly 10 minutes in rush hour. With the empty streets, he arrived in five.

Seungcheol was about to enter his apartment complex when he heard an unexpected crash from the alley. He slightly jumped in fright, not expecting the loud noise.

A frown then made its way onto his lips. It seemed like something – or _someone_ – had bumped into the trash cans. (_Or a drunk clumsily bumped and fallen into them_, he thought with an eye roll.) Despite his doubts, his police training was kicking in. He squinted through the rainfall and carefully trudged into the dark alley. He didn’t have his issued handgun (it’s his day-off so he wasn’t allowed to carry it), nevertheless he was confident in his martial arts. (Black belt in mixed martial arts to name one.) He cracked his fingers and gripped his fists, his posture ready to attack or defend.

His senses on high alert, Seungcheol gingerly walked closer to the fallen trash cans. His brows furrowed together in suspicion when he saw someone lying on the ground. He carefully crouched down and checked his vitals. “Just unconscious,” he breathed. Somehow he was relieved. (Going home and picking up a dead body wasn’t really in Seungcheol’s bucket-list. A good bed time story maybe but not really pillow talk material.) Relief then turned grim. The person’s face was covered in splotches of blood. It seemed like they were gravely injured. He pursed his lips in thought.

After a while, he shook his head and helplessly sighed. Throwing caution into the wind, he did the last thing his mother ever wanted him to do – he carried a stranger into his home.

Damn him and his kind heart.

**

Seungcheol watched, seemingly fascinated, as wisps of vapor lift up from his tea. It somehow looked entrancing. (_Like a person dancing for their lover, _he mused.) He breathed in the aroma of his favorite peppermint tea (he usually prefers coffee but he didn’t need the adrenaline rush caffeine always offers at the moment.) He greedily breathed in. It was calming, refreshingly soothing.

He knew he was distracting himself. Clearly. _Obviously_. His thoughts were too annoyingly muddled for him. He has to calm down. He _needed_ to.

His gaze went towards the door of his guest room. The stranger lay there, cleaned and carefully bandaged. He was still unconscious. Seungcheol didn’t know if that was a good thing or not actually. A wry look passed his face.

He then met the indifferent gaze from the person sitting across the table from him.

Kim Jonghyun – or JR as he preferably likes to be called – was his close friend. They didn’t grow up together nor were they classmates in school. They met in the police academy; Seungcheol as an academy student and JR as a genius forensic expert. Brimming with curiosity and diligence, the aspiring officer had taken a liking to forensics and JR was coincidentally looking for an intern. Seungcheol had signed up for the role and was then hired. Rapport was immediately built between them, resulting in an unexpected yet welcome friendship.

Years has passed and Seungcheol has already considered the forensics expert as someone he could wholeheartedly trust. That was why when he was shakily cleaning up the stranger, the first person he had sought out for help was JR. As unreasonable and stupid as he was when he panicky called, Seungcheol knew his friend would not judge and instead would help him. (_And now I have to explain_, he grimaced.)

He pursed his lips and stared at his friend. JR quietly stirred his tea and gingerly took a sip. (He likes his tea strong so Seungcheol always had a stash of premium Earl Grey tea. They were quite expensive to say the least.)

Taking a deep breath, Seungcheol knew it was better to just say it.

“I don’t know who he is,” he started, avoiding his friend’s inquisitive gaze. “I picked him up at the alley downstairs,” he continued. “There were no IDs. I couldn’t even find his wallet. There was nothing on him except for a crumpled piece of paper I could hardly make out the content,” he furthered, fiddling with his thumbs. “I know it was idiotic to bring him here – at my _own_ home, being a police officer and all that – but I couldn’t just leave him there. He was _fucking_ bleeding, Jay! I just couldn’t let him die there.”

He said it all in one breath. He stared, quite indignant, as he awaited the verbal lashing he knew JR would give him.

Unexpectedly, his friend simply sighed.

JR put down his teacup. “Numerous gunshot wounds,” he stated, meeting Seungcheol’s confused gaze. “They were nonfatal, just making him unable or incapable of movement,” he explained. Seungcheol couldn’t help but frown. (_It was obvious they shot him so he couldn’t escape_, he grimly surmised.) His fists unconsciously clutched tightly. “He lost a lot of blood so he might be unconscious for a while. I’ve already put an IV on him. You just need to inject medicine every after four hours. Change his bandages daily as well. We don’t want his injuries to get infected.”

Seungcheol listened carefully and listed down the things he needed to check and do. He nodded once he noted them all done. Staring at JR, he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He smiled at his friend.

“Thank you,” he told him, eyes sincere. JR snorted and nonchalantly waved his hand. “There needs no thanks when it comes us,” the doctor commented. Seungcheol merely grinned, his face beaming with gratefulness. He patted the other on the shoulder. “_Really_. Thank you,” he replied. The doctor just nodded his head.

He then stood up from his seat. Seungcheol knew his friend was already leaving. He followed him towards the door.

JR was putting on his jacket when he suddenly stopped and stared at Seungcheol. The latter was about to ask if he had forgotten something when JR caught him off-guard. “Take care of the little kitty you picked up, Cheolie. He looks like a biter,” his friend advised with a cheeky smirk.

Before he could even reply or react to JR’s teasing, his friend had already shut the door behind him. The young detective stared at the closed door, mouth hung agape. Disbelief colored his face.

His gaze then turned towards his guest room. A blush unexpectedly rushed up from his neck to his face; even the tips of his ears were flushed red. He pursed his lips, feeling aggrieved by his friend’s taunts. (_Fucking Kim Jonghyun!_) As much as he wanted to scream out loud, he sadly couldn’t. His walls weren’t exactly soundproof. (The late night endeavors of his neighbor was the perfect proof.) His eyes then squinted into a glare. The innuendo was clear as day for Seungcheol.

Shaking his head in helplessness, he sighed and decided to turn in. It was finally his day-off after all. Seungcheol was planning on resting – stranger unconscious or not, he’ll freaking get his well-deserved breather!

As his head hit his pillow and his eye lids finally close, Seungcheol buried the thoughts of a smirking JR and a bloody cat at the back of his mind. He was beat! Sleep was more important than the mystery at the other room.

He’d bother about it once the sun rises tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Clue: this story was mentioned in Heels Over Head //w\\\\\\\\)


End file.
